


Software

by amairylle



Series: The World is Larger Than We Humans Can Know [1]
Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Deep Conversations, Dog Biscuits, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amairylle/pseuds/amairylle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of a long Day, Darryl finds himself in need of conversation with Ponch. Fortunately, his subconscious bought dog biscuits.</p><p>Takes place after A Wizard Alone. Potential Spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Software

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wizardslexicon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardslexicon/gifts).



Now that he was out of the special ed school and in public school again, Darryl found himself much more tired in the afternoons, even though all his teachers seemed to want to go out of their way to make him feel comfortable. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, it was incredibly condescending, and left him feeling more frustrated than accommodated. It was the price, he figured, for coming out of the burnout so quickly: he'd be stuck with people always second-guessing his abilities until he repeatedly proved him wrong. Just thinking about it was exhausting.

The other students were worse, though. It was unfortunate that he was not in the company of wizards, and thus found himself surrounded by people who were less than kind to people who were different. They couldn’t hurt him, but there were some things that even shield spells could not block.

Most afternoons, he had to stop off somewhere before he could go home, because he had to decompress and recharge a little. His parents were great about giving him the space he needed, but right after he got home from school they were prone to concerned hovering. So he’d put on his headphones, block out the world, and let his feet carry him somewhere he could rest for an hour. More often than not, he ended up at a bookstore or the library. Once or twice he’d ended up at a park, when it wasn’t too freezing. Today, he’d ended up at Kit’s house; by way of a supermarket, judging by the box of dog biscuits in his hand. Clearly his subconscious wanted him to talk to Ponch. Darryl shrugged and rang the doorbell. Petting an animal was almost as calming as swimming, and it was still too cold for the pool to be open.

The door swung open, revealing a very frazzled-looking Kit. “Darryl!” he said, enthusiastically but distractedly. “Hey dude. Come on in. What’s up?”

“Got off school a bit ago,” Darryl replied, stepping through the door. “Thought I’d drop by.”

“Oh,” Kit said. “Do you mind hanging out in the kitchen for a bit? My mama wants me to fix the TV so it’s won’t show Carmela the shopping channels anymore. She doesn’t like having to sign for strange packages when she’s trying to sleep, plus she says the laser burns on the back fence aren’t doing good things to the property value.”

“No problem, Kit.” Darryl held up the box of dog biscuits and gave them a small shake. “According to my subconscious I’m here to talk to Ponch.”

Kit grinned. “Ah ok.” He waved Darryl towards the stairs. “Sorry for not being that welcoming. Mama finally made me take a sick day, and no one else is home, so I’ve been arguing with machines all day. Between dealing with the stomachache all week and the bull-headed DVR, I turned into an ass.”

“I thought machines were polite?”

“You’ve met my home theater system, right?”

They both laughed.

“You’re not an ass, Kit. I’m not here to see you anyways.”

“Oh, well, now I’m insulted.” He laughed though, clearly not.

“Kit,” Darryl said firmly. “You took a sick day and spent it arguing with machines. Even if I were here to see you, I don’t understand how you’d be up for it. Go take a nap, dude.”

Kit considered it, nodded, and switched off the TV. “Ponch should be in my room, and judging by the fact that he didn’t come barreling downstairs at the mention of biscuits, he’s sleeping.”

“Oh,” Darry said. “Should I come back later?”

Kit grins. “He’ll be happy to see you. Plus, you bought the expensive biscuits.”

Darryl nodded, starting up the stairs. “Wait a second,” he said, “don’t you want to nap on your bed?”

“You’ve never slept on this couch, Darryl,” Kit flopped on it and pulled a quilt off the back. “It’s like sleeping in the arms of Morpheus. If my folks would let me, I’d sleep here all the time, but then I’d never get up.”

Darryl laughed. “All right. I’ll see you on my way out.”

Kit yawned. “Unlikely, but thanks anyways.”

Ponch was, true to Kit’s word, asleep in the middle of Kit’s bed. “Pancho,” Darryl whispered, quietly shaking the box of biscuits. Ponch’s ears twitched, but he didn’t wake. “Pancho,” Darryl repeated, a bit louder.

 _Squirrrrrrrrrels,_ Ponch barked sleepily, before rolling over fully onto his back.

“Hey, Ponch,” Darryl said, scratching the dog’s belly with one hand and vigorously shaking the biscuits with the other, “I brought food! Wake up!”

Ponch didn’t move for a minute, as he was enraptured by the belly scratches. However, as soon as he was awake enough to hear the box shaking, Darryl found himself on the floor, covered in dog. _BISCUITS!_ he barked, between enthusiastic licks to Darryl’s face. _YOU BROUGHT ME BISCUITS!_

“Easy, Ponch, easy. Calm down, calm down. It’s just biscuits.” Darryl tried to push Ponch off; his enthusiasm was a little much for Darryl at the moment.

Ponch obediently, albeit reluctantly, climbed off Darryl and sat down, his tail betraying excitement underneath the calm he had just put on. _It’s never just biscuits,_ he said. _Food is important. Food can be for surviving, or working, or friendship or life or the meaning thereof. Eating is important, especially since sometimes you eat things, but sometimes Things eat you. You want to talk so I need to be calmer?_

“That was surprisingly deep from a dog who really wants a biscuit,” Darryl replied. Ponch laughed. “And you’re right, I do want to talk. And you being calmer would really help. Plus, Kit’s napping so you should probably be quiet.”

 _Finally!_ Ponch said, settling closer. _I worry about him a lot. He loves working himself past his limit, especially when he’s sick. I thought if I took a nap, then he’d take a nap, but it didn’t work. So thanks._

“You’re welcome.” Darryl opened the box of biscuits and handed Ponch one.

 _Biscuit!_ Ponch cried, eating it happily. He then settled down with his head resting on Darryl’s leg. _What’s eating you?_

“I’m not really sure. I just sort of was walking after school and ended up here with biscuits and something heavy in the back of my mind.”

_Okay. Can you think of what it is?_

Darryl leaned back against the bed and thought for a moment. He wouldn’t come to Ponch for questions about autism, or how to deal with his folks: his therapist was a better option for that. Not school either - he’d talk to Nita and Kit first. Wizardry issues went to them as well, or Tom and Carl if they were big enough. But this problem was definitely something else. Something… secret. “I get the feeling that the universe is keeping something from me,” he said, at last.

Y _ou’re a wizard, Darryl._ Ponch replied. _The universe does that a lot, I hear. To the Boss. To Nita and Dairine. To me. Biscuit?_

Darryl handed him one, which he savored with all the delicacy dogs usually reserve for food, which is to say, it was gone seconds later. “Yeah, I know but it feels like something bigger than just the sort of information they want to figure out in the course of working out a wizardry.”

_Like what?_

“I remember…” Darryl pauses, thinking back to the burnout. Parts of it are so fuzzy and muted when he looks back on them now, and parts of it are painfully, unbearably clear. “I remember, at the end, It tried to tell me something. But It couldn’t, because… because of something Nita did to my Kernel. It said that I was one of… something, and I’ve been asking the Silence and it won’t tell me, but I wonder about it a lot. Like, what if that’s why I can bilocate? Or why It pursued me so much? I just want answers, and no one will give them to me.”

 _You should stop asking,_ Ponch whined.

“What?” Darryl replied, “If it’s about who I am, then it’s important!”

_But The One Who Bites only says things that hurt. And you need to not listen!_

“Yes, but why?!” Darryl shouted at Ponch, who whined a bit and cowered. Darryl glowered at him. “If it’s about me, shouldn’t I know?!”

 _Not necessarily,_ Ponch replied softly. _Biscuit?_

Darryl handed him two, and scratched his ears while he ate. “I’m sorry, buddy. I just get frustrated. I even asked Tom and Carl, and they said they couldn’t tell me. And then that they wouldn’t tell me. And then that they could, but no one would like the consequences. And then they sent me home. Maybe you can explain better?”

 _I can’t give you answers,_ Ponch replied, _but maybe I can help. You said some interesting things when we were all stuck in your head too, you know. Do you remember the jungle? When the Boss stumbled in by mistake and got stuck, and I followed to protect him?_

Darryl nodded.

_You said that we shouldn’t be there, but especially me, because you could see what I was becoming._

“Yeah, I remember that.”

_What am I becoming, Darryl?_

Darryl stared at Ponch, whose dark, universe-deep eyes were met his with unexpected intensity. “I… I can’t tell you.”

_Why not?_

“It’s too important. You’re going to… to be able to do something very important, and if I told you what you were becoming, it might change how you did it. And that could end terribly.”

_Exactly._

“What?”

_Exactly. Biscuit?_

Darryl handed him one.

_You’re someone really important. The Boss wouldn’t tell me what, and I didn’t quite understand, but he and Nita talked about it for a long time. They were really impressed and amazed. But they said that they could never ever ever ever tell you about it. It’s like… It’s like your… software?_

“My software?”

_How you described yourself? Or not cheating at a card game?_

“Oh, right!”

_It’s like when I play fetch. There are rules, but not many. One is that you can’t have someone else bring your stick back for you. Another is that you can’t bring back something your Boss didn’t throw. Otherwise you’re playing the game wrong._

Darryl nodded. “You play the hand you’re dealt…” he whispered.

 _Yes you said that! Biscuit?_ Ponch chewed for a moment. _And there are consequences to not following the rules. Like the Boss gets angry and makes you return that old man’s shoe._ He paused, sheepish _. I only did that once. Maybe twice._

Darryl laughed. “Go on.”

_Anyway, the Boss said that one of the rules about what you are is that none of us can tell you. Because you’re too good for the universe, and if we tell you, you’ll die._

“You can tell me that but not what I am?”

Ponch nosed his leg. _I may not have been supposed to, but the telling won’t hurt you_.

“All right.” He handed Ponch another biscuit, and leaned against Kit’s bed, sighing. “I’m ‘too good for the universe?’ That doesn’t make sense though. I don’t understand.”

Ponch glared at Darryl to the best of his ability. _You’re not supposed to understand, and if you pursue it, it’ll kill you. Weren’t you listening?_

“Sorry.”

_It’s ok. You owe me a biscuit for not listening though._

“I’ve been feeding you biscuits continuously since I got here!”

Ponch whined. Darryl sighed. Ponch inhaled the resulting two biscuits with exquisite grace.

Darryl let himself fall over onto the floor, gently petting Ponch’s back. “Every other time I’ve had identity issues, there’s been a reason for it. Why do I act so differently from other people? Autism. Why do people in stores glare at me sometimes? Black. But this? It doesn’t make sense. I want there to be an answer, and I want to be able to know it.”

_You think I don’t?_

“What do you mean?”

_Do you think I don’t wonder about why I can walk into other… pocket universes, I think? That’s what the Boss called them, I think. Anyway. Do you think I don’t wonder about what you’ve told me about myself? What am I, Darryl?_

Darryl paused and handed Ponch a biscuit to give himself some time to think. What was Ponch? He could walk into other pocket universes, that much Darryl had seen. But the Silence had told him that there was more, and Kit had filled in that Ponch had even created spaces, and populated them (usually with squirrels). A being who could do that was clearly powerful, possibly on the level of some of the Major Powers, but Darryl couldn’t say that.

Ponch licked his hand. _Quit stalling,_ he grumbled. Darryl realized that he’d been feeding Ponch a steady stream of biscuits for several minutes. More than half the box was gone. _What am I?_  Ponch repeated.

“I… I don’t know,” Darryl said.

_I do._

“What?”

_I’m a dog! I take care of the Boss and eat biscuits and chase squirrels and go on walks and howl and whine and drive the Boss’s mom crazy sometimes and I love my Pack and I take care of my Pack and I always will._

“But what about the walking through other spaces? And wondering about all the other stuff? Dogs don’t usually do that.”

_I do. And it’s odd. And I don’t understand. But I have to make the best of it. I do my job with what I’ve been given._

“But what about me?” Darryl asked.

_What about you?_

“I bilocate. I can trap the Lone Power in my mind for eternity if I so choose.”

Ponch thought for a minute. _You’re a wizard._ He finally said.

“But other wizards can’t do that!”

_So? Wizards are more different from each other than dogs are. Nita can do things the Boss can’t. Dairine can do things that both of them can’t. You can do things they can’t. They can do things you can’t. But you all have something in common._

“What?”

_You all make the best of it. You do your jobs with what you’ve been given. Sometimes you aren’t given the same things. Sometimes you don’t know why. Sometimes you don’t have to know why. But you can still do great things with the powers you have._

Darryl nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I guess I can.”

 _You can!_ Ponch barked. _You can you can you can! Biscuit?_

“You know,” Darryl said, “You certainly can go from wise advice to hungry dog very, very quickly.”

 _One,_ Ponch said seriously, _I am always a hungry dog. Two, the best advice can be found at the bottom of the biscuit box._

Darryl had nothing with which to contradict him, and thus proceeded to dump the entire box of biscuits onto the floor, which Ponch cheerfully started gobbling up.

There was a knock at the door. “Darryl?” Kit’s mom asked.

“Come in,” Darryl replied.

“Mijo, Kit told me you were up here and we wanted to ask you to stay for dinn--” Kit’s mom walked into the room, surveyed the pile of biscuits rapidly disappearing into Ponch’s slobbery maw. “You’re staying for dinner,” she said.

“I don’t know,” Darryl said, “I should probably be getting home soon...”

“Call your folks and ask. If they say you have to go home, you have to go home. But if you can stay for dinner, I made chicken. Plus, someone has to explain to Kit that Ponch ate a full box of biscuits, and it’s not going to be me.”

 _CHICKEN!!!!_  Ponch barked loudly, swallowing the last biscuit, and then barreled out the door and down the stairs, with Darryl behind him. He could barely hear his phone through Ponch's excited shouting and Kit's exasperation.

"Did you seriously have to feed him an entire box of biscuits?" Kit asked.

"It was an important conversation. And apparently the best advice can be found at the bottom of the biscuit box."

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are the property of Diane Duane. I just play in the sandbox she built.
> 
> Also a huge thanks to geekhyena, who is the best of all betas


End file.
